This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist-Chapter 1070 Divine Game My World 15

Rita knew exactly why they were all crowding around her.

Pine Bloom and Maple Syrup had even released Whale Falls in the Wind and Faded Homeland, sending them off to question Wrathful Moon.

And it was not just them. Ever since Rita left the war cruise ship, more and more players had gathered on this section of the deck.

She even caught sight of Lightchaser and Ash Cinders among the crowd.

Wrathful Moon was swaying gently in the air, almost like it was drunk. Inside the lantern, aside from a fragment of moonlight, there were countless violet sparks darting back and forth.

They never stopped moving, bouncing endlessly within the glass. The sight reminded Rita of iron flowers she had once seen exploding into sparks.

She glanced again at the world dock whose moon she had taken. Above it, only a faint outline of a moon made of starlight remained.

Other players could not see the item details inside the lantern, but Rita, as its owner, could.

[World Sigh: 1]

Rita had planned to brush them off with a few vague remarks, but her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. An overwhelming drowsiness swept over her, impossible to resist through sheer will.

Mistblade and the others watched as BS Rita’s eyes slowly closed. Her body slackened and tipped backward, collapsing once again against Nivalis. The dragon instinctively curled her tail around her. Wrathful Moon drifted down softly and settled into Rita’s arms, the violet sparks inside finally going still.

Maple Syrup reached out and patted Rita on the shoulder.

Nivalis immediately protested, "Be gentle. You will break Ranran."

Maple Syrup fell silent. Dragons and her really did not get along.

Fat Goose poked Rita’s arm with one finger. "Hey, you cannot sleep here."

A dagger flashed toward his hand. If Fat Goose had not pulled back in time, his fingers would have been pierced clean through. Seeing who it was, he swallowed his complaint in frustration.

Lightchaser twirled the dagger and sheathed it, then crouched to check on Rita. "What is wrong with her?"

Facing Lightchaser, Nivalis stiffened instinctively. "She fell asleep."

What kind of reaction that answer caused, Rita did not know.

She felt as though she had turned into a wisp of wind, drifting through a world called Brilliance.

She could sense everything happening in every corner of that world.

The dominant race of Brilliance was called the Fireglint. They looked similar to humans, except their eyes and hearts were gemstones of countless varieties.

Every Fireglint was a born gem crafter. If the gemstone they obtained happened to match the type of their eyes and heart, the boost they gained was astonishing.

Rita thought of the most famous among them, Fury Prayer.

She had never seen a world so beautiful.

Currency, houses, mountains, rivers, all were made of gems. Even the food sparkled like faceted jewels.

Time felt strange. She watched the Fireglint live day after day as her perception stretched unnaturally long.

A gust of wind nudged her, and Rita’s awareness settled into a Fireglint named Pilgrim.

It was like watching a film. In the blink of an eye, she lived through an entire lifetime.

Written down, it would only take a few thin pages. Studying gems. Mining gems. Researching gems. Cutting gems.

Pilgrim was just an ordinary gem merchant. She carried a pack and traveled everywhere, selling the gemstone bracelets she made to every corner of the world.

It was hard to say whether she earned money to support her travels, or traveled and earned money along the way.

Either way, her income and expenses balanced out. She always had just enough gems on hand. Every few days she would encounter something that made her laugh out loud. Occasionally she cried, but not often.

An ordinary life. A peaceful life. A happy life.

She died in an accident, collapsing into a lake of gems. In the final second before her consciousness faded, she witnessed a meteor shower.

One blazing mass of light after another fell from the sky, trailing long tails of fire as they descended upon Brilliance.

Another gust of wind blew, and Rita’s awareness lifted again.

This time, she became a Fireglint named Kerli.

A down on her luck artist.

Her story was even simpler than Pilgrim’s. Written down, it would be only a few lines.

She tried living by painting. Could not afford gems anymore. Changed careers.

She tried writing. Her child nearly starved. Changed again.

She tried music. The child was almost gone. She gave up and went home.

Fortunately, her family had some money. Kerli coasted through the rest of her life in idle comfort.

In the blink of an eye, Rita became a wandering bard.

Again and again, the wind carried her into one Fireglint life after another.

She witnessed story after story of quiet, unremarkable lives.

The only thing they shared was that all of them took place before the game descended upon Brilliance.

Rita did not know how long she stayed there. She had lost all sense of time.

But she knew that with every descent, she learned something.

History. Music. Painting. Gem classifications. Stories passed down among the Fireglint. Their finest techniques in gem crafting.

It seemed every race was the same. Beyond language and writing, they created their own stories, music, and art to record emotion and life itself.

Perhaps these were what could be collectively called civilization.

Things no skill or game mechanic could ever replace.

It felt as though this world was deliberately teaching her these things.

She sank into it completely, as if she had returned to Apache’s alchemy shop or Binast’s Moonlight Marsh. Learning something new always brought her a rare sense of calm.

Until a sigh echoed within her heart.

The next instant, Rita opened her eyes on the war cruise ship.

The star tracks overhead were still bright. Rita asked, "How long was I out?"

Nivalis had expected the question and answered immediately. "Five hours. I forfeited every duel for you. Snowfield has completed its invasion of Beacon."

"That is fine," Rita said, genuinely.

Lightchaser, Mistblade, and the others were already gone. When BS Rita woke up, players passing by on the deck glanced over, but none approached. They clearly knew they would not get answers.

Rita checked Wrathful Moon in her arms. The violet sparks were gone.

Yet she could feel it clearly. Her body now held a World Sigh.

She did not bother asking B80, whose intelligence was already outdated. Instead, she asked BS itself. As a world, BS should know what this was. She also did not hide what she had done.

[BS]: What you consumed should have been a world’s regret, or perhaps a memory a world refused to forget.

[BS Rita]: Then what happens when World Sighs are collected to a certain degree?

[BS]: I do not know. No one has ever done this before.

[BS Rita]: Are moons the doors in and out of each world?

[BS]: You could say that.

[BS Rita]: Then if I ate the door of Brilliance, can Brilliance still be remade in the future?

[BS]: Yes. Whenever a world is remade, a new moon is born to witness a new beginning. The moons you see above ruined world docks are already dead. They linger only because of regret and obsession.